The words were strangled in his throat, they could not find their way;
Till forth they came at once, without a stop or stay:
'Cid, I'll tell you what, this always is your way;
You have always served me thus, whenever you have come
To meet here in the Cortes, you call me Peter the Dumb.
I cannot help my nature; I never talk nor rail;
But when a thing is to be done, you know I never fail.
Fernando, you have lied, you have lied in every word;
You have been honored by the Cid and favored and preferred.
I know of all your tricks, and can tell them to your face: